Gaining traction not so easy

I met Antonio Torres and his 11- and 12-year-old daughters in a small interview room here at the paper Friday morning.

Mr. Torres had come to tell a story of fighting drug addiction, losing his children to foster care, becoming homeless and working tirelessly to get his girls back.

In May, after a five-year fight, and after doing everything the court said he needed to do, he was granted custody. But now he is holed up with them in a one-room apartment at the Albion Hotel on Main Street, facing eviction.

As Mr. Torres told his story, his daughters added commentary, touching on their experiences at the Albion — the woman who has long conversations with her cat, the unknown persons who urinate in the community bathroom sink and the constant fire alarms.

Antonio knows that his daughters shouldn’t be at the Albion, not just because children are not allowed, but because, he said, the hotel is a harbor for drug addicts, sex offenders and the lot.

But after he tried to find an affordable apartment in the city that allows children, he said, someone turned a blind eye and allowed him into the Albion. Now that his living situation is known, he said, he has to go.

“What can I do?” he asked. “I am dealing with rejections left and right.”

The girls seem aware of the many rejections. When asked what they wanted for themselves, they responded with sheepish smiles and bewildered shrugs, as if the tap to children’s enormous dreaming capacity has not yet been turned on in their young lives.

After gaining custody of his children, Mr. Torres said, he moved back here from New York to be closer to family members. But because he had left a shelter in New York, the Department of Transitional Assistance said it couldn’t help him directly.

Instead, he was referred to Friendly House, and later to the Interfaith Hospitality Network. He said he left Interfaith, because it constantly moved him and his daughters among the agency’s shelters in Central Massachusetts.

The constant movement made it impossible for him to gain the traction to make a real go at bringing stability to their lives, he said.

That was when he took the little savings he had to rent the apartment at the Albion for $600 a month. He is now working with Central Massachusetts Housing Alliance to find another suitable and affordable apartment.

Maybe he should have stayed with Interfaith Network instead of making the move to the Albion.

But if Mr. Torres lacks the practicality that an invested mother would have brought to the family, he doesn’t appear to lack the grit and determination to right the wrongs he has done in his life.

His résumé, among numerous documents he brought with him, shows that since the birth of his children, and throughout his fight to reclaim them, he has maintained steady employment, including seven years as a security officer and supervisor for two security companies.

And even as he drifts from place to place, he has lined up temporary, on-call jobs with a call center, with the DCU Center, and with the Salvation Army.

I don’t know if Mr. Torres’ story is any different from any of the many homeless families in this city, different from the couple with a child I saw that same morning on the sidewalk, next to the entrance to the building housing the Department of Transitional Assistance at 340 Main St.

They were standing amid a bundle of suitcases, as if they were about to embark on a trip, but more likely they were just another family trying to find shelter in a city that has no more room in the inn.

Perhaps this couple had a more compelling story to tell, but I didn’t ask. My cup was running over.